Lord Skinner gave a loud cry and backed away.
‘I am bones,’ Mr Bones said, cracking his knuckles. ‘I am fear given shape – everything you ever tried to hide. You put it all into the mirror and you pretended I wasn’t part of you, but we are opposite halves, Ephraim Skinner: you the frightened child, and me everything that child could become if only he dared.’
Lord Skinner held up his hands, trying to ward off the sight of Mr Bones advancing on him. He backed away, losing one of his slippers and knocking over a hall table.
Mr Bones kept walking, one slow step after another. ‘Still so afraid of death, Ephraim? But why would I kill you? If you die, I die. We are bound together – yet I have served you long enough.’
Charles watched, half horrified, half fascinated at the sight of the richest and most powerful man in Wyse cowering in his nightwear. He even felt a bit sorry for him.
Lord Skinner covered his face with his hands. ‘Go back to Unwyse. Ava Harcourt is there, and the boy. The Book too. You can have them all. Rule the Unworld and leave me be.’
That is just cowardly, Charles thought, his sympathy disappearing. A ghostly skeleton brushed past him. He yelped and jumped back.
Lord Skinner tried to run, shoving people out of his way. They all stood frozen, too frightened to move.
Mr Bones caught up with Lord Skinner at the door and took him by the collar.
‘Conjuror,’ he said to Mr Footer. ‘You command me. Do you wish me to remain here?’
‘Go away,’ Mrs Footer snapped.
Mr Footer gulped. ‘Yes, go. Go back to the Unworld where you belong and never trouble us again.’
‘Wait,’ Charles said in alarm, but Mr Footer didn’t listen. Charles didn’t think the conjuror could hear anything except his own terror.
‘Go,’ Mr Footer said, louder this time.
Mr Bones bowed, turned and walked back along the hall to the mirror, towing Lord Skinner behind him.
Mr Footer gaped. ‘I didn’t mean take him too. Let him go.’
Mr Bones looked back. ‘You ordered me to go. He and I are one and the same.’ He walked on.
Mist rose up to surround him. Lord Skinner didn’t resist. He hung limp, a large bag dangling from Mr Bones’s hand, slowly disappearing.
The mist shrank back to the size of the mirror, then the glass cleared and reflected the hall once again. Mr Bones and Lord Skinner were gone.
For a long moment, no one spoke.
Charles ran to the mirror. The glass was hard and cold again. It didn’t respond, even when he prodded and then struck it with his palm.
Reverend Stowe opened the door and looked out. Moonlight streamed across the hall, glancing off all the mirrors.
‘What do we do now?’ he asked.
Possibly because Mr Footer was peering at him, other people turned in Charles’s direction too, as if they expected him to know. Even Constable Blackson looked at him. Charles rubbed his forehead. Ava and Howell were in Unwyse and now, thanks to Lord Skinner, Mr Bones knew.
‘Make the mirror work again,’ he said. ‘I’m going through after them.’
‘You’re doing no such thing,’ his mother said. ‘Mr Footer, I forbid you to open that mirror.’
Mrs Footer smacked the conjuror on the arm. ‘I forbid you too. You’ve done enough damage.’
It wouldn’t help, anyway, Charles thought. You couldn’t go through a mirror without an invitation, and he couldn’t imagine Mr Bones inviting them across. But they couldn’t just give up and go home, not after all this.
‘Let’s search the house,’ Charles said. ‘There might be more working mirrors around.’ He wasn’t convinced, but he’d promised Ava and Howell he’d investigate.
He didn’t expect anyone to agree, but surprisingly they did. People nodded.
Mrs Footer clapped Charles on the shoulder. ‘Excellent idea, young man. Let’s get to it.’
CHAPTER 36
The future is about to change. I hate it when it does that. I like to know what’s going to happen, and now I have no more idea than you. I wonder if this is what it’s like to be mortal – always worrying what might happen next.
The Book
Ava stood up slowly as the cellar wall turned to mist. Gradually the mist brightened, as if the sun was shining through it, until she could see the whole cellar, and the heap of enchanted cloth piled up behind them.
‘This is not good,’ Howell muttered.
Ava nodded, but the knot in her chest loosened. At least she could see now. Anything was better than waiting in the dark, not knowing what was around her.
But then the mist parted down the middle and Ava realized there was something worse than being trapped in the dark. Finding herself before Mr Bones, seeing his pale face, and his eyes – darker than the cellar had been, and full of malice: that was much, much worse.
And worse again was the thing being dragged behind him. For a second, Ava’s eyes refused to see it properly and she thought it was a large bag. Then it twitched, and gave a little moan, and she realized who it was: Lord Skinner.
Ava put a hand to her mouth, stifling the cry that wanted to get out.
He was barefoot, wearing pyjamas and a gold dressing gown, which had got tangled around him. His eyelids fluttered weakly as he bumped along the floor and, when Mr Bones let go of him, he slumped into a pile as if everything inside him had been emptied out.
‘Good,’ Mr Bones said. ‘You’re here just in time.’ He put out a hand. ‘You can give me The Book now.’
Ava wrapped her arms round it. She could feel her heart beating against her ribs. This wasn’t fair. She’d never asked to become The Book’s guardian. She’d never asked for any of this to happen.
Where’s your sense of adventure, Ava?
‘Shut up,’ she muttered to herself. Mr Bones hadn’t won yet. ‘Where’s Matthew?’ Her voice trembled. ‘What have you done to him?’
Mr Bones shook his head. ‘You really are quite annoying. Your brother and Lunette are safe. Come with me and I’ll take you to them.’
Ava backed away from his outstretched hand. ‘Why do you want The Book anyway? It’s not exactly useful.’
‘Is that what you think?’ His dark eyes glinted. He turned to Howell. ‘We talked about this, boy. What is written must come to pass.’
Howell was suddenly still, barely breathing. ‘The covenant,’ he whispered. ‘The covenant was written down.’
‘That not exactly useful book,’ Mr Bones said, ‘is the book of the covenant between our two worlds – created here in Unwyse, from the same magic that sustains the mirrors, protected with magic so that nobody can write in it and change what was written. But the mirrors are failing, and The Book’s magic has failed along with them. In fact, it has so little magic left now that it is almost ordinary paper again.’
The Book weighed heavily in Ava’s arms. She clasped it closer, protectively. ‘The Book said no one could write in it.’
‘Did it? Or did it say certain people couldn’t write in it? I have had two hundred years to study these things. The Book and its guardian are connected and it appears that this is enough to overcome what little magic The Book has left.’ Mr Bones kicked Lord Skinner absent-mindedly. ‘Or should I say The Book’s guardians. Your brother was quick to reveal the truth when I threatened to hurt his lady friend.’
Ava was clutching The Book so tightly that her hands ached. ‘You’d better not have hurt them.’
‘I haven’t. And I won’t if you give me The Book.’
He held out his hand again.
‘Don’t,’ Howell said.
‘I’m sorry.’ She hoped he’d see from her face that she wasn’t going to let Mr Bones win. He couldn’t make them write in The Book. They’d find a way to beat him, but for now, if they wanted to rescue Matthew and Lunette, they had to let him think he’d won.
Slowly she raised her arms and released her grip on The Book, dropping it into Mr Bones’s waiting hands. He inclined his head a
s he accepted it.
‘That wasn’t so hard, was it?’ he said. ‘Come this way, if you please.’
Cool mist swallowed them all.
They stepped out into a room that made Ava gasp in surprise. It was an exact copy of the banqueting hall at Waning Crescent. Candles cast pools of yellow light across the wood-panelled walls. A fire crackled in the grate, but instead of warmth, it gave off an icy chill. A mirror hung above it in a pale frame – a frame made of bone, Ava saw with a shiver.
In the centre of the room, Matthew and Lunette sat either side of the long dining table, empty plates set before them.
Ava started forward. ‘Matthew!’
He didn’t respond. Ava shook his shoulder, but he remained as cold and rigid as stone. ‘You said he was safe,’ she said accusingly.
‘And so he is.’ Mr Bones set The Book on the table. ‘They were proving troublesome, so I put them to sleep. I’ll wake them soon.’ He dumped Lord Skinner next to the fire and took a pipe from the mantelpiece. Entirely unhurried, he filled and lit it. He turned to face the mirror, and Ava saw with a shock that he had no reflection. How was that possible? Everything had a reflection.
Lord Skinner pulled himself up against the mantelpiece. His whole body shook so violently that Ava wondered how he managed to stay on his feet.
‘Mr Bones,’ he said, ‘you will remember your place. I created you and you promised to serve me. I command you to release us all.’
Ava’s hands slid off Matthew’s shoulders. ‘You created him? What do you mean?’
‘When you’re angry, when you’re sad, put it in the mirror,’ Mr Bones said mockingly. ‘It worked too well, didn’t it, Ephraim?’
Lord Skinner moaned. ‘I was ten years old when my parents died. My father left me his magic mirror. Nobody told me not to mess with it – nobody warned me what I might see. They all said I had to be brave, to be a good boy. So I remembered the rhyme. I spent whole nights in front of the mirror, pretending my reflection was the angry boy, the grieving boy, the boy who was afraid that he, too, would fall sick and die. And then, one night, the boy in the mirror looked back at me and spoke.’
Ava felt the room sway. Reflections didn’t just come to life.
Howell pulled a chair out and sat down, looking dazed. He didn’t seem to know what he was doing.
Mr Bones gave a terrible smile. ‘Reflections are real things. An ordinary mirror shows what you look like on the outside. I am the opposite of that: I show what’s on the inside. Made out of magic and all the parts of Ephraim Skinner that little Ephraim didn’t want – is it any wonder he fears me?’
Lord Skinner’s own fear, given shape. Ava shivered. Of course Mr Bones had no reflection of his own – he was a reflection.
‘That must be why he vanished so suddenly from the factory floor,’ Howell said softly. ‘Lord Skinner looked into a magic mirror in Wyse, and Mr Bones had to appear.’
And that explained Lord Skinner using Mr Footer as a spy, Ava thought. If he looked in a mirror himself, all he’d see would be Mr Bones.
She looked at Lord Skinner and her stomach rolled with an odd mix of pity and horror. He’d grown up with only himself for company, he’d said. He’d meant it quite literally, and now he was at war with his own reflection.
Lord Skinner pulled his dressing gown straight. ‘I’m not afraid of you, Mr Bones,’ he said, fumbling with the belt. ‘I command you to release us.’
Mr Bones laughed. ‘You command nothing on this side of the mirror, Ephraim Skinner. Unwyse belongs to me. I’d kill you if I could, but we are tied together. I’ve kept you alive all these years, because death is what you fear most. You will do anything to avoid it.’
He snapped his fingers.
All around the room the candles went out. The only light now came from the fire and a silver glow at the windows. Lunette remained frozen, but Matthew jumped and stared around.
‘Ava? What’s going on?’
Ava threw her arms round his shoulders. ‘We’re fine. Don’t worry.’
‘No, you really should worry,’ Mr Bones said. He tossed his pipe into the fireplace. Shadows stirred all around them and a sound rose, first like the rustling of dead leaves and then growing harder, less like leaves now and more like . . .
Bones.
Mist poured in through the windows and took shape. Skeletons: four of them. Their bone arms dangled at their sides, their fingers twitching restlessly. Their empty mouths hung in permanent grins; their empty eye sockets seemed to have no end: deep, dark holes, rimmed in cold white.
The Book fell open on the table. Words scrawled into being, so faint that Ava could barely read them.
The Book of Unwyse Magic containing the Covenant between the Human World and the Unworld.
These are the terms of the covenant between the Human World and the Unworld.
The Fair Folk will withdraw from the world and take all magic with them to form their own realm. Yet the Human World must not be left wholly without magic. Magic mirrors will be created, two by two, each pair forming a doorway between the Human World and the new Unworld. Any person may cross through, if invited from the other side. Furthermore, the Unworld will supply all magical goods and services requested through the mirrors.
While the mirrors stand, so shall this covenant. If it ends, the Unworld will end with it. What is written must come to pass.
If words on a page could look sad, these did.
A pair of bone pens appeared on the table, one either side of The Book.
‘Guardians of The Book,’ Mr Bones said, ‘it is time to rewrite the covenant and change our worlds forever. You will take up these pens and write what I say. These are the terms of the covenant, freely written. The mirrors will reawaken. The Human World will serve the Unworld forever.’ He smiled grimly. ‘And this bag of skin will serve me,’ he added.
The skeletons moved closer. ‘Write or you will all die,’ Mr Bones said. He pointed at Matthew. ‘Starting with him.’
Matthew stood up. ‘Try it.’
‘Matthew, don’t!’ Ava cried. She clasped her hands behind her back, twisting her fingers together until they hurt, afraid she’d reach for the pen.
Mr Bones put a hand on her shoulder. His grip froze her. ‘You might as well do what I say. You can’t make things worse than you already have. If it wasn’t for you, your brother would be safe and happy, living his own life. If it wasn’t for you, Howell would have his own magic, but you stole it. How many other lives have you ruined?’
Ava tried to look away from him, but she couldn’t. She was falling into a deep, black hole with nothing to cling on to. It was true. It was no wonder people regarded her with suspicion and whispered behind her back. They knew there was something wrong with her.
‘And you,’ Mr Bones continued, turning to Howell. ‘Do you want to stay here forever? Year after year in Waxing Gibbous, doing the most tedious jobs until boredom turns your thoughts to dust?’
Howell clenched his hand until his fingers turned as white as the bone pen. A drop of crimson ink formed at the tip and dropped on to the table.
‘I am bones,’ Mr Bones murmured, standing between them both. ‘I am the fear you try to hide. You can cover me over for a time, but you can never get rid of me. I am your greatest terrors given shape, and I cannot be stopped. Nobody can help you. Write or stay here forever forgotten. Write, or your brother will die.’
Ava felt a low sob rise in her chest. If she wrote what Mr Bones wanted, she’d be ruining the lives of everyone in the world. But if she didn’t write he’d kill Matthew. She reached for the pen.
Then a voice spoke out of the wall. ‘Excuse me, Mr Bones, but you’re wrong.’
CHAPTER 37
You know I told you once you ought to stop reading and run for help? Now might be a good time to do it. I think the worlds are about to change.
The Book
Ava turned her head and froze, staring in amazement. Charles! Charles was looking out at her through the mirro
r over the fire. She thought it was another trick until he grinned and waved, and his expression was so Charles-like that she knew it really was him. The shadows that had invaded her mind fled away, allowing her to think clearly again. She pushed Mr Bones’s hand off her shoulder.
‘Charles, what are you doing?’ she asked.
Charles flipped his hair out of his eyes. ‘We searched Waning Crescent and we found a mirror hidden upstairs in a room full of rubbish. And I thought: we have three conjurors here so we might as well see if we can get it to work. He spread his arms. ‘And – ta-dah!’
Mr Bones made a noise like knuckles cracking.
Charles had worked a mirror? Not just any mirror, but Lord Skinner’s secret mirror. Ava hadn’t even dared try it for fear of where it might lead.
‘I didn’t do it on my own,’ Charles said. ‘Mrs Footer took charge – she’s back to herself again. And quite a lot of the town are here too.’
Various hands waved behind him in the glass. Ava waved back, a smile growing on her lips. Everyone there, wanting to help.
She felt The Book move and she looked down at it. A single word was beginning to form, letter by letter.
C o n n e c
The page went blank.
Connection. Everything was connected. She was connected to Matthew by blood, connected to Howell by magic, and to Charles by friendship. Just as Lord Skinner and Mr Bones were connected by that mirror.
Mr Bones’s eyes burned. ‘Write,’ he said. ‘I will give you everything that belonged to Lord Skinner. Wealth and power. You can put right all the damage you have done. You won’t need to be afraid again.’
Is that what he’d promised Lord Skinner once? Ava’s gaze slid to the trembling old man. For a moment, she saw him as a boy, lonely and afraid. He’d thought he was getting rid of his fears, but they’d come alive and taken over.
It’s better to be shaped by our kindness than our fears. Who’d said that? Reverend Stowe? Ava choked out a laugh. She could barely breathe, but she had to laugh because fear only existed if it had something to feed off – just like a skeleton couldn’t exist without its body, and a reflection couldn’t exist without a mirror.
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